Talking of Home
by Medie
Summary: Ray K and Fraser talk about Canada


Title: Talking of Home  
  
Author: Medie  
  
Rating: G  
  
Spoilers: None that I can think of  
  
Category: Friendship  
  
Summary: A conversation between friends  
  
Disclaimers: Fraser and Ray aren't mine. If they were, they'd still be on the  
air and in eps worthy of an Emmy.  
  
**************  
Talking of Home  
by Medie  
**************  
  
"Fraser?"  
  
'Yes, Ray?"  
  
"Do you ever get homesick?"  
  
Looking over, the Mountie surveyed his friend. Ray sat upright in the hospital  
bed, his blond hair spiky and rumpled from sleep and the bruises on his face  
a duller colour than they'd been the day before. Despite his scruffy  
appearance, the American's eyes gleamed with curiosity and Fraser wondered   
where the question had come from even as he opened his mouth to answer simply.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"A lot?"  
  
"Every day."  
  
Ray digested his friend's answers then posed another question. "What do you  
miss? Is it the land, the people? The cold? The politics?"  
  
The last was said as a joke and Fraser chuckled in accordance.   
  
"Well, though I must confess, Canadian politics can be rather . . . tamer   
than its American counterpart, I don't miss that at all." Sitting back, he   
frowned thoughtfully as he considered the question. "In truth, it's rather   
hard to describe."   
  
For a moment, Fraser looked down at Diefenbaker who met his gaze with an   
almost understanding look.   
  
"All I know, is that while I have been able to make this city a home . . .  
it's not *home* . . . " He sighed deeply and looked into his friend's curious   
face. "When I wake in the morning I am distinctly aware that I'm not in Canada.   
It doesn't bother me. Not usually. But there are times when . . . things  
remind me. Or I find myself wishing I was alone in the woods rather than   
standing before the Consulate."  
  
Pausing again, the Canadian considered the question that had been put before  
him once more . . . taking a serious look at it. "I have a family here and   
I'm grateful for that. But there are times when I find myself wishing that,  
just for an instant, I was standing in the midst of a forest just after a   
snowfall . . . There really is nothing like it Ray. I hope someday I get to  
show you what I mean. Standing there, the only person around for miles,   
listening to the animals moving, watching your breath cloud before you and   
looking up at the snow-covered pines . . . " Clearing his throat, Fraser's   
cheeks tinged slightly as he realized he'd been staring at a point on the   
wall, caught up in a dream of his own making. "It's . . . ahem . . . well.   
It's like magic."   
  
Embarrassed at his revelation, the Mountie refocused on his friend's face.   
"What makes you ask, Ray?"  
  
It was Kowalski's turn to fidget and he looked down at the thin blanket   
covering his legs, his hands fussing with the worn material. "I dunno . . .  
You get a lot of time to think in this place . . . Can't sleep all the time.  
Got to thinking about what it must've been like for you. First when y'got   
here. I mean, comin' from the great white north," he flashed a grin at the   
teasing words. "and getting dropped into this city . . . Must've been a big  
culture shock. I tried to picture what it'd've been like for me, if I had to  
go up to where you're from . . . straight from here."  
  
"And?" Fraser prompted, genuinely curious at to what his friend's insights   
were.   
  
"Well, I figure I'd either hop a plane back home inside of two days or I'd   
get myself killed." Ray grinned sheepishly. "Not exactly the best when it   
comes to nature."  
  
"I think," His friend offered with a smile. "You'd surprise yourself. You   
adapt quickly Ray, you've proved that . . . " They both knew Fraser was   
referring to the undercover work, to becoming Ray Vecchio rather than Ray  
Kowalski. He'd survived and thrived in it. Not everyone would.  
  
Kowalski shrugged, picking at the blanket again. "Different . . . "  
  
"Circumstances yes, but the principal is the same." Fraser insisted, quite  
proud of how the other man had handled the situation.  
  
"But you helped." Ray countered, not seeing the same thing Fraser was. Not  
seeing his own talent - his own capability.  
  
"Yes I did . . . but in the end - it lay with you. Success or fail, the   
responsibility for it lay with you." This time, Fraser didn't try to hide  
his pride as he spoke. It wasn't something he was comfortable doing, not   
having it when he grew up, but he was as intent on speaking the truth as he  
would have been catching a suspect. When Benton Fraser decided he would do   
something, he was damn well going to do it.  
  
"You're a survivor Ray and you're a good one." He paused before continuing.  
"Whether it's being dropped into someone else's life or being dropped into   
the Northwest Territories . . . you survive . . . and you thrive. You should  
be proud."  
  
They were silent then . . . for a long time.  
  
Then finally, Ray piped up with a simple statement. "Maybe, some day, we can  
take a trip up north . . . maybe spend some time in the woods . . . "  
  
Smiling, Fraser nodded. "Maybe . . . "  
  
They would, some day. And, when they did, Fraser had no doubts.  
  
Ray would love it just as much as Fraser now loved Chicago.   
  
Second home . . .   
  
Finis 


End file.
